


a demon can get into real trouble, doing the right thing

by stockholm_syndrom



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Demon Jaskier | Dandelion, Fluff, Humour, Inspired by Good Omens, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Oblivious Jaskier | Dandelion, Pawn Geralt, demisexual jaskier, in this fic geralt has custody of the brain cell, ineffable husbands witcher style, wheras jaskier is: head empty & dick confused
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:34:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25191751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stockholm_syndrom/pseuds/stockholm_syndrom
Summary: Dear Chaos,Today I encouraged the elves of Dol Blathana to start a revolution against the humans! Carefully and strategically planting the seeds of chaos, as you know I like to do.Love,Julian.-The demon Jaskier fic where he is a literal agent of chaos assigned to tempt Geralt away from Destiny’s Path. Inspired by good omens.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 38
Kudos: 362





	a demon can get into real trouble, doing the right thing

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to sadieb798 who prompted me with this idea and stfustucky who was my beta

The first to be created, they say, were Chaos and Destiny. 

If you ask Destiny, it would say that it gave birth to Chaos, because nothing is created without a destiny. 

If you asked Chaos, it would say Destiny was born to put a stop to its fun.

In truth, neither knows who came first, but ever since they became aware of each other, both have been doing their damndest to win their tug of war. 

Destiny likes to use the beings of the Continent, seeing life as a chessboard and doing its best to get its players into position, whether they consent to it or not. 

Chaos likes to make its own players and unleash them to hinder Destiny and achieve chaos. 

\------

Jaskier has been a chaos demon for about a century, and he’s bored. For some reason Destiny had chosen to favour Valdo Marx, of all the beings on the continent, and Jaskier had been the one assigned to Valdo. 

At first he had planned to seduce Valdo away from Destiny and to Chaos. It was a relatively typical demonic move and rarely failed, and Jaskier figured he’d be done in a few months. The man wasn’t even hard on the eyes. But then they met, and Valdo was so unappealing that Jaskier gave up that idea almost instantly. 

Instead, he enrolled at Oxenfurt Academy and picked up the bardic arts.

Jaskier hadn’t had much of a plan beyond bothering Valdo at some point, but to perfectly honest, Jaskier never made plans and things tended to work out for him anyway. So he learned how to play the lute and write songs, and for a few years he sort of forgot all about Valdo, too charmed by Oxenfurt and all he could learn. Luckily his presence there seemed to distract the man enough that no great compositions were made. 

Well, there was a rather popular one about Destiny that got some traction and made Chaos very cross with Jaskier. After that he made sure to keep an eye on Valdo, though he very much resented having to do so. No being should be forced to endure Valdo Marx. It was hardly backbreaking stuff, though, irritating a troubadour and distracting him from creating inspiring pieces about Destiny. Jaskier had proved to be incredibly apt at the job, and was for the most part enjoying himself immensely. All he had to do was be himself, really.

It was just that Valdo was... So. Boring. Jaskier couldn’t stand it. It took him months --months!-- to write a trite song, and Jaskier only a day to make a mocking parody catchy enough to drown out any goodwill Valdo may have inspired. It took no effort! He had already graduated from Oxenfurt but now he was stuck there, the city feeling smaller and smaller by the minute. He needed to get out into the world! 

He didn’t understand the point of it anymore, couldn’t he just kill Valdo? But whenever he asked, Chaos just thundered, CHESS, into his mind, which explained nothing to be quite honest, and gave Jaskier a headache. 

However, when Jaskier accidentally managed to humiliate Valdo to such a degree that he packed up his lute and flute, and left for Cidaris to lick his wounds, Jaskier was excited for a bit of a holiday. He had been stuck in Oxenfurt for almost a decade and he wanted to do some tourism. So he packed up his lute and set off without informing anyone. He was ready for a good time!

But just a week into his well-earned holiday, he received a visit from Essi. 

“Julian,” Essi’s voice was both monotonous and brought to mind a gaping chasm. She stood still and immovable on the road Jaskier was traveling on. 

Essi rarely had reason to visit the physical plane anymore. Her place at Chaos’s side meant that she hadn’t been on earth for a century or more, and becoming corporeal was taking her some time.

Jaskier wasn’t jealous of the fact that Essi had won chaos demon of the year for the past forty years running-- though he actually had a chance this time because he was pretty sure he had driven Valdo mad this year, just by being his charming self. But Essi had masterminded the Conjunction of the Spheres (they were still debating what brought the most chaos, the monsters or the humans), and there was really no competing with that. And truth be told, the top spot came with a lot of responsibility, and Jaskier didn’t go in for all that work. Planning, ugh. 

“Essi!” Jaskier beamed, running up to her and spinning her into a hug, while she was still trying to conjure up her arms. 

Essi’s left eye stared at him, unblinking, reflecting only deep chaos and a fathomless abyss. Then she blinked and smiled, and her eyes changed into the same cornflower blue shade as his. That's how Jaskier knew that he was her favourite too.

“Are you joining me on my holiday? I thought I’d take a boat to Skellige and partake in some revelry. The fertility festival is in two weeks,” Jaskier told her with a wink. 

“No one has approved any holiday for you,” Essi replied in that same monotonous voice. 

“Does it not strike you as slightly ironic that chaos demons, working for Chaos, have such rigid bureaucracy?” Jaskier pouted, getting started on his favourite rant, “One would think tha--” 

“It’s hard to approve a holiday request if you never sent the request in,” Essie interrupted him. 

“Well, I just knew Chaos would say no. So I-”

“You’re still making up time for when you took half a decade off of work because you discovered arousal. But I’m not here to argue paperwork, do I look like Dijkstra? I have a new assignment for you.”

“Already?” Jaskier whined, pushing his bottom lip out even more, hoping to change Essis’s mind. 

“You are to be in Posada a week from now. Destiny has chosen a witcher as their new champion, and you have been tasked with tempting him off Destiny's path.”

“I’ve heard witchers smell like onion,” Jaskier complained. 

“Well, you don’t have to sniff him. Julian, please take this seriously, okay? I know planning isn’t ‘your thing’, but things are picking up and Chaos wants you in the thick of it. It’s a big honour, so just promise you’ll actually put some effort and planning into this?”

“I promise,” Jaskier sighed, all the while crossing his fingers behind his back.

\----

Though Jaskier liked to complain about work and the lack of adequate holiday, he did mostly enjoy being a chaos demon. There had been training and manuals when he first started up, but he had promptly forgotten most of the teachings. Jaskier mostly just, you know, vibed. And things tended to work out for him. 

One time when Jaskier was high, he had to called Chaos and shouted, “Chaos! Hey, Chaos! What if we gave humans access to chaos? Huh? How would that go?”

A year later Chaos had replied,

IT IS DONE

Jaskier had struggled to look elves in the eyes ever since, and he still tried his best to stay away from human magic users.

On the bright side though, the resulting chaos meant that Jaskier had a corner office bigger than Dijkstra’s now. Well, figuratively speaking, since chaos and chaos demons were non corporeal entities in their true forms.

\-----

Chaos did not actually possess any all knowing powers, though it tried to give that impression. Mostly it just relied on Dijkstra’s spy network, Essie’s brain, and some carved runes left behind by a soothsayer that had died in Velen some decades past. None of it was an accurate science, which meant that Chaos didn’t know which witcher Destiny had picked or why, but it did know he would be in Posada soonish, and that he would object to the entertainment.

There’s absolutely nothing to do in Posada, and Jaskier was bored, so while he waited for Destiny’s latest sacrificial lamb to arrive, he tried to keep himself entertained. He was finally getting a chance to spread his songs to a larger population than Oxenfurt and Novigrad. 

When the witcher walks in while Jaskier is belting out his latest song, he feels rather insulted. First the villagers, now the witcher. Everyone was a critic apparently. The witcher was broody and moody, and wearing dreary clothing. And he did smell like onions. 

But by his side, Jaskier had felt more awake and connected to the world than he had in decades, so maybe this new assignment wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

\-------

Dear Chaos, 

Today I encouraged the elves of Dol Blathana to start a revolution against the humans! Carefully and strategically planting the seeds of chaos, as you know I like to do.

Love, 

Julian. 

Dear Chaos, 

My most devious plans to distract Geralt of Rivia away from his righteous Path with food women and wine has been successful! 

Love,

Julian 

Dear Chaos, 

Years of hard work and planning (I told you I wasn’t just slacking off! Please tell Dijkstra to stop nagging me) resulted in a hedgehog marrying a princess! Tornadoes! Geralt getting a child of surprise and then abandoning it! and much more! 

You’ll get the whole story in my latest song.

Love,

Julian

Julian,

I can't put a song in our filing cabinet, write your damned report.

Dijkstra

Dear Dijkstra, 

Why not, if none of it is corporeal anyway?

For an account of the hedgehog tornado wedding, you can catch my performance in Kerack this spring festival.

You can bring the Demon of the Year plaque when you come.

Kisses,

Julian

Dear Chaos,

Due to my clever planning, Geralt has bound his heart and fate to the mage Yennefer of Vengerberg, a turn of events sure to cause chaos and heartbreak, and I’m obviously very happy about this.

Love,

Julian.

\-----

To his surprise, Jaskier was enjoying his new assignment. All he had to do was follow Geralt around and then every now and then send an update to Chaos where he took credit for some happy accident that had happened along the way. And he had managed to convince Chaos that a night spent drinking rather than freezing out-doors and running into monsters was a win for their side, so Jaskier had a pretty sweet deal going on.

Life was good, and the years passed in a blur. 

Jaskier had not figured out how to seduce Geralt off the Path completely, but he had found himself enjoying sharing the Path with Geralt, so he put the end goal of the mission out of his mind for now. 

The decision to live as a bard was something he had initially struggled to explain to Chaos, who didn’t see why he would want to keep that up now that Valdo was mostly out of the picture. Eventually, though, the stir his songs caused within human societies --and the amount of fights that broke out when Jaskier played some of them in taverns-- well, that seemed to satisfy Chaos enough that no one questioned that whole business anymore. Well, Essi liked to question why he wrote so many songs about Geralt lately, but Jaskier preferred not to think about it too closely. It was his cover, that’s all, and if it worked, why analyse it? 

The more time they spent together, the easier it was to coax Geralt into sharing a drink and then a room safely inside. Not that Jaskier cared for Geralt’s safety-- oh no, he was just very dedicated to his job. Really. 

The thing is, Jaskier hadn’t planned Cintra at all. He had truly just been excited to perform his songs and spend some time ~~with Geralt~~ at court again. He saw no issue with taking credit for what happened there of course, when the opportunity arose. He did, however, get a weird feeling in his stomach when he saw how upset Geralt looked. The evening had been a win for Destiny as well, but the sheer chaos of it, and the less than ideal starting point for Geralt’s bond with his Child of Destiny, put Jaskier’s team on top. 

Jaskier knew he should be happy. He had a good shot for Demon of the Year, and with no effort from his side. But when he remembered Geralt’s face when he realised he had bound a child to his Path… well, it was probably just a stomach bug that made him feel sick.

\-------

Even though Geralt was Jaskier’s main assignment, that didn’t mean he was by his side all year. He certainly made an effort to be, but Geralt would always shake him off in the autumn and disappear somewhere mysterious. Jaskier mostly spent that time developing his bardic career. He was rather fond of it at this point, and since his success seemed to cause Valdo so much resentment that he couldn’t seem to write anything that wasn’t wholly derivative, he could claim it as working hours. For some reason he seemed to cause a surprising amount of chaos whenever he performed. He didn’t exactly know why, but saw no point in questioning a winning formula. 

And Jaskier did have friends as well, alright, he knew more people than just those he met on the job. He did! He had even developed a rather flattering reputation amongst the ladies and gentlemen of the continent over the years. 

Alright, so Jaskier’s reputation --as someone who fell in love at the drop of a hat, a ladies man, a rogue, a cad, a dashing don Juan-- may have been slightly exaggerated. Not false, exactly, he knew how to please, thank you very much, he just… didn’t do it as frequently as the tales would have you believing. 

Jaskier liked people. You would as well if you spent your first few decades without a physical body and only Essi and Dijkstra for company. And when Jaskier liked or admired people, he complimented them, usually spontaneously and without giving it much thought. People started calling him a flirt, and were flattered by the flirting, and the more famous he got, the more they liked to say that they had participated in the flirting. 

It’s not that Jaskier never, you know, groped for trout in inviting rivers or what have you. It’s just that when you create your physical body through intention, rather than it just being something you are born into, you sort of have to remember to include the capacity for physical attraction and arousal into the whole machinery. It was suprisingly easy to forget. 

Not to say he had never partaken in such activities. When he had first discovered arousal, well, that had been about half a decade lost to distraction. But the thing was that he had to _intend_ it every time, it didn’t just come out of nowhere as it appeared to do for humans. 

The love, however? That was a lie.

It did fascinate him, love, that is. Jaskier supposed that beings are drawn to the things they can’t have, and he had spent decades writing love songs and poems. It had started by him studying and picking apart every romantic epic and famous poem while at Oxenfurt, trying to find some kind of understanding of the emotion. He now found the emotion so easy to manufacture, he started to doubt the existence of it even amongst humans some days. 

So, despite his suggestive and romantic songs, sex was actually very rarely on his mind, and mostly only indulged when he was pursued or someone he had become fond of seemed to desire it. Jaskier liked pleasing people, liked desire, but he liked the closeness most of all. 

\------

Jaskier has only had this body for about a century, but it’s already malfunctioning. 

He keeps feeling warm, despite the fact that it’s late autumn. And even though his body is getting plenty of exercise, his heart will start beating rapidly at the strangest of moments. He tells Essie this over breakfast, but she is sceptical. 

“Have you been feeding it correctly? I know it’s easy to forget, but a human body --well, humanish-- still follows human rules.”

“I feed it just fine! The countess even called me plump the other day,” Jaskier preened at Essi. 

“Did you accidentally make it allergic to food just to see if you could? And then get stuck that way like Priscilla?”

“Don't talk to me about Priscilla, I still haven’t forgiven her for making the milk in all those cows in Toussaint turn sour,” Jaskier said with a frown. “She knows Toussaint cheese is my favourite. I swear she did it just to get back at me for upstaging her at the an-”

“She did it to escalate the trade war between Nilfgaard and Toussaint, which was her job. Not everything is about you Jaskier. And some of us actually carefully plan our work.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier replied, squinting suspiciously and not believing a word of it. Priscilla acted all cool and collected nowadays, but he had mentored her. He knew it had been personal. 

“Do you think I could get a new one?” he asked, forcing his mind back to the issue at hand. 

“A new body? One, a rapid heartbeat is hardly enough to assume that this one has gone to the dogs, and two, it doesn’t work like that? Please tell me you know how your own physiology works?” Essi implored. 

Jaskier turned his gaze up towards the sun, refusing to meet Essi’s gaze. “Um, of course I do,” he replied unconvincingly, “but uh, could you just remind me of the thing I absolutely know?”

“These bodies are physical manifestations of our beings,” Essie said, while looking at him in disbelief. “We are born from chaos, and we have to use that chaos and our force of will to manifest as a physical beings. It takes most of us decades, if not centuries of work to understand the science enough to manifest humanoid tissue at a cellular level.”

“Uh, well...” Jaskier replied, a bit bashfully, “I just thought I was just supposed to wish for one really hard, and then I’d sort of get delivered into it? So I did, and poof! a body!”

Essi was looking at him with despair and incredulity, but apparently decided that it was best to just not comment on what she had heard. “Most demons change their appearance every century or so. Elves have long lives and now humans have started dabbling in immortality, too. But these aren’t some random bodies we possess, they don’t just malfunction.”

“But what could explain how I sometimes feel all warm inside, and like I want something even if I just ate! And my heart will start beating so fast and my breathing grow rapid at the most ordinary moments. I could even be lying down!”

“Is there something tying those moments together? That could be the answer,” Essi suggested.

“Not that I can think of. I’m doing what I’m always doing, just walking the Path with Geralt.”

“And you don’t think that could be the answer?” she asked, moving to brush aside the hair covering her eyes once more. She really should manifest a haircut, Jaskier thought. Somehow her hair was always in her eyes. 

“Huh? You think I might be allergic to Geralt? Nah. Gods, I hope it isn’t dairy, if I have to give up cheese…” 

His ramblings were interrupted by Essi’s loud laughter. He couldn’t quite understand what was so funny, but she was always so weighed down by her responsibilities that seeing her be carefree for just a moment drove all other thoughts out of his mind. 

\-----

When the dust settled in Rinde after a day of extraordinary chaos, the sort that had him in the running for the second Demon of the Year in a row, Jaskier mostly felt bereft. He couldn’t figure out why. Geralt was tying his fate to another person, this time the mage Yennefer. Just a few minutes in her presence and Geralt was already in love, and why wouldn’t he be? She was beautiful, chaotic, and powerful. She was also utterly unaware of the wish tying them together, however, and anyone could see that nothing but chaos and heartbreak awaited them in the future. 

Not only that, but Geralt was sure to be distracted from his Destiny now in a way that Jaskier couldn’t have achieved on his own, the wish throwing the two of them together again and again, distracting Geralt from both the Path and his Child of Destiny. 

Jaskier should be happy that his assignment just became so much easier. He should make it his priority to bring Geralt and Yennefer together as often as he could. It wouldn’t be difficult. One letter to Dijkstra would ensure constant reports on her whereabouts. If anyone were to ask him why he didn’t put such plans into motion, Jaskier would have said that he had too much pride in his own capabilities to rely so heavily on another for his chaos. 

He left Geralt’s side early that year. He couldn’t quite explain why, it was just that he ached a bit whenever he looked at him. 

\-----

When Jaskier sat next to Geralt on that mountain, he felt a desire for something different, something he barely understood and couldn’t quite articulate, even to himself, but the words just seemed to spill out of his mouth. 

Jaskier’s instructions when it came to Geralt were quite simple: keep him off Destiny’s path. So if anyone asked, he could just say it was a devious demonic plan, nothing to see here. Just an ingenious way of resolving the issue of Geralt’s pesky habit of getting himself into trouble and getting caught in Destiny’s net.

\------

Geralt POV 

Geralt’s life had come to a screeching halt that day on King Niedamir's mountain, when Boch had turned to Yennefer and told her what Geralt had done and what it would cost him, and then had turned to Geralt and told him what Jaskier was and why he was with him. 

In one fell swoop, he had lost the first person he had dared to choose, and the first person that he thought had chosen him. 

The year that followed was nothing but a blur of poor villages and monsters, as he tried to let repetition and exhaustion drive thoughts of Yennefer, Jaskier, and his Child Surprise from his mind. 

\--------

The year after finding Cirilla went by fast, her energy and their training keeping him occupied all throughout winter. But when spring approached, he knew he had to do something about the powers he could see in her, powers he had no way of teaching her control over. 

“I got your letter, _friend_ ,” Yennefer smirked at him by the entrance to Kaer Morhen, referring to what was probably the most awkward letter sent in the history of the continent. How do you ask your wish-fated not quite ex-lover because you were never officially anything but you sure were something that you aren’t anymore, to come mentor the child you accidentally acquired? 

If there was a non-awkward way to go about it, Geralt had certainly not been clever enough to figure it out, and neither had any of his brothers. 

“Show me around, we have some catching up to do,” she ordered him, turning to walk outside, and Geralt followed, picking up his pace until he reached her side. This close to her, he could smell the lilac and gooseberry that always surrounded her. Her scent and her beauty still stirred up that longing and desire within him. 

When he had first met Yennefer, he had thought that she was someone too strong for him to hurt, and therefore someone he could hold on to, could keep in this life he led. And she was strong, in many ways, but to act like he could claim her just because of that, because he had been lonely and yearning for someone he could keep, wasn’t right. Despite the initially good intentions behind his wish, he had kept its true nature secret from her, and that wasn’t right either. She wasn’t a thing to claim because he was lonely, and no one was immune to hurt, no matter how powerful they were.

His medallion gave a brief hum.

“I’m glad you understand now,” Yennefer said, breaking the silence. 

“Were you in my thoughts?” Geralt asked, feeling too guilty to allow himself any anger at the intrusion. 

“Since we both know you still have much to learn about how to communicate your thoughts, and we have a ward to protect, I thought this would be the most expedient. Or would you rather we wasted another few years on lies and resentments?”

“I am sorry, Yennefer,” he swore. 

“And I believe you,” she said, and by the stillness of his medallion, she had taken his word for it.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked.

“You will be, in time.” 

It was more than he could have hoped for.

They walked on in silence for a while, not stopping until they reached one of the nicer viewpoints near the keep. Once there they sat in the early spring sun and talked of Ciri. His brothers had already left for the Path and Ciri was with Vesemir, so they sat there undisturbed, really talking for the first time. 

When Ciri ran out, excited yet shy about meeting Yennefer, Geralt felt something in him settle, at the three of them there together. There was only one thing that would have improved the moment, but he tried to put that out of his mind.

\--------

Having left Ciri with Yennefer to train until the winter, Geralt was once again left to his own devices. 

He and Roach worked their way down Kaedwen and then through Redania, and it wasn’t until Geralt could spot Oxenfurt in the horizon that he realised that he had unconsciously been traveling the same way he had for the past… how long? Geralt was startled to realise that he had been traveling to Oxenfurt or Novigrad, the two cities Jaskier tended to alternated for the winter once the Countess had kicked him out once and for all, for almost a decade. 

The most startling part was how it had never been a conscious choice. At first, Jaskier had always come to find him, turning up by Geralt’s side sometime during the spring or early summer, sticking around despite Geralt’s grumbling until he shook him off in the autumn. That had been the pattern. At what point had Geralt started to be the one seeking Jaskier out?

As he hesitated on whether to make his way towards Oxenfurt, Boch’s voice rang in his ears. “ _Your friend, you might want to ask him why he follows you, because I don’t think even he knows if it’s love for you or duty to his master that’s keeping him by your side.”_

Anger and betrayal was still hot in his stomach as he remembered those words, and Geralt steered Roach east, away from Jaskier.

\--------

It’s late summer and Geralt is in Kerack when he hears Her Sweet Kiss for the first time. 

It’s being performed by a young man, a student most like, as there is a whole group of them gathered by the stage. They’re probably making their way from Oxenfurt to some local music festival, and Geralt curses the bad luck that placed them in the same tavern as him. 

Well, his food was already paid for, and he had tolerated worse. 

“Not like that!” a young female student was calling out to the singer mid verse. “You need to sing it like the original!”

“What do you mean?” the boy on the stage asked. “Am I not allowed to bring in my own interpretation?”

“Not if that’s the excuse you’re trying to use to cover for the fact that you just haven’t studied the song,” the same girl snorted. “Singing it like it has only two characters removes all the complexity from it! It makes it trite, just a singer bemoaning some man’s poor taste in a woman. Why the professor chose you for the student solo I’ll never understand.”

“Well, how would you sing it, then?” the boy on stage challenged her.

“With the yearning befitting a song about loving a man who loves another. If you can’t improve the original, at least attempt to sing it like Professor Pankratz does!”

“Well, I haven’t seen Professor Pankratz perform it,” the boy muttered resentfully.

“And clearly not studied the lyrics closely, either.” The girl snorted. “ _Everyone_ knows it’s about him loving that witcher. Move aside, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Geralt sat in shock as he listened to the students debate Jaskier’s unrequited love towards _Geralt_. Surely not? Wouldn’t he have noticed? 

His thoughts were interrupted as the girl took over the stage, and began a rather… overdramatic rendition of the song in question. Where the boy had been understated, this girl seemed to thrive off of dramatic looks. Geralt pushed down the urge to laugh. But once he started to actually listen to the lyrics, he couldn’t deny that they certainly did give the impression that Jaskier was in love with him. 

Geralt walked into his room feeling shocked. He saddled Roach the next day, still shocked. It was in fact not until the next night, staring at the night sky above Kerack, that he accepted what he heard as a possible truth. 

Geralt had spent the past few years doubting every moment spent with Jaskier, convincing himself that it was all just manipulation and lies, that Jaskier stayed by his side to manipulate destiny. What Boch had said, coupled with almost a century of proof that no human could genuinely love him, it had been a quick and easy conclusion to come to. 

But that song had him questioning this truth for the first time. Clearly the real reason Jaskier had approached him had been a lie, but had all of it been? Or had Jaskier’s purpose changed at some point? He wasn’t sure what to believe, but it had been over five years since he had seen Jaskier, and maybe he was finally ready to admit to himself that he had missed the bard, whether he was a demon or not. 

The next morning, he rode back to the inn where he had spotted the students, and found out the location for the music festival. 

\--------

When Jaskier spotted him in the audience, the look on his face was first shocked, then happy, then indignant. Geralt had forgotten how expressive he could be. And how colourful. Those competition outfits sure were… a lot.

It wasn't long until he marched up to Geralt, jingling slightly from his many necklaces and embellishments. “You!” he shouted as he made his way to Geralt. Once he reached him he poked Geralt in the chest with a finger, then shook it out with a wince. 

“Took you long enough!” Jaskier snapped, and aimed a petty kick against Geralt’s ankle before stomping his foot. Then for good measure he also crossed his arms over his chest and pouted at Geralt. 

For a moment, all Geralt could do was stare him in fond exasperation. This was the man he had been imagining making serious and devious plans to ruin Geralt’s life? 

“I made you wait.” Geralt said the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile that seemed to rile Jaskier up even further as the bard huffed at him. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, don’t leave me again and all is forgiven,” Jaskier said, the apology apparently enough to smooth down his ruffled feathers.

They stood there in silence for a while, taking each other in, before Geralt said, “Come on, Roach is waiting.”

\------

And just like that, things went back to normal. The years continued passing, much faster now with Jaskier creating trouble by his side again. During winters Geralt trained with Ciri in Kaer Morhen, and when Yennefer came to collect her, he left to find Jaskier. 

The spring had been unusually cold this year, and so Geralt had decided to keep his winter beard for a while longer as he made his way down to Novigrad. He might make this a habit, he thought with amusement as he saw the effect it had on Jaskier. 

Jaskier’s greeting when Geralt came for him was always enthusiastic; he tended to fill the air with so many words Geralt could barely understand him, so eager to share every thought and event that Geralt had missed while he was away. But this time, he spotted the beard and promptly tripped over his own feet, and would have fallen down if not for Geralt’s quick reflexes. 

“Oh, hello there,” Jaskier said in a faint voice, eyes tracing over Geralt’s face, hand reaching up to touch, stroking it as if he had never seen a bearded man before. 

Geralt could hear Jaskier’s rapid heartbeat, see the flush in his cheeks, smell his growing arousal. Most tellingly, he was silent. 

“Come on,” Geralt said, throwing his arm over Jaskier’s shoulder and enjoying how his pupils dilated at the move. If he made his voice deeper on purpose, well, Jaskier was definitely too distracted to call him out on it. “Let’s get some ale and you can tell me all about your winter.”

Geralt wasn’t sure if he was ready for something more with Jaskier just yet, but a little teasing never hurt anyone.

\------

Years later, when the dust settled and the Wild Hunt was defeated, Geralt looked at Jaskier, the person who had fought beside him (well, waited in a tent), stayed beside him, and had proven time and time again that he would always choose Ciri and Geralt, would always put them first, before Chaos or Destiny. 

And so Geralt took a deep breath before turning to Jaskier and saying, ”I hear the coast is nice this time of year.”

\-----

Jaskier POV

It was a completely ordinary day when Jaskier’s world turned on its head. 

“Good morning,” Geralt greeted him as he entered the kitchen, briefly squeezing Jaskier’s shoulder when he walked past him to the coffee Geralt had prepared. 

“Morning,” he yawned in reply. 

Jaskier poured them both a cup and took them out to the porch, where they sat down on the swing Great built last year. And just like every morning, they watched the waves lapping at the shore and the village slowly waking up around them, fishermen nodding greetings as they passed by. Jaskier was usually still too tired to make conversation first thing in the morning, but he still liked to be here with Geralt before he went out to fish or help one of their neighbours with repairs. Geralt liked to tell him it was the only peace he could get at Jaskier’s side, so Jaskier made sure to always rise early enough to keep him company. 

Once Geralt finished his coffee he went inside to get ready for his day, and Jaskier lingered on the porch, still sleepy and unwilling to move inside and get started on his composing just yet. 

“I’m going out with the fishing boat today. I’ll catch us some dinner and sell the rest at the market. Want me to pick anything up while I’m there?” Geralt said as he came to a stop next to Jaskier.

“Some wine?” Jaskier requested. The early autumn days were still warm enough that they could eat the fish on the porch this evening. 

“See you at dinner then,” Geralt said. The whole exchange was quite ordinary for them, until Geralt leaned forward with a mischievous smile and smacked a kiss on Jaskier’s cheek and said, “Dress nicely, it’ll be our ten year anniversary.” 

That part was definitely new.

“Uh,” Jaskier replied. 

Geralt huffed out a soft laugh before walking briskly away, as if he hadn’t just thrown Jaskier’s world off its axis.

 _“What?”_ he croaked a minute later as the words sunk in. 

What? He asked himself, sitting there completely disoriented. 

He looked around at his and Geralt’s house, where they indeed have been living since they decided to retire off the Path, apparently ten years ago today. 

But that had just been Jaskier’s evil plan, right? Retiring with Geralt so that he was tempted from the Path of Destiny. That was all there was. Right?

That was why he stayed, right?

Right?

Never mind the fact that Geralt did not have any destiny left, now that that whole Wild Hunt nonsense was over and Cirilla was making her own way in the world. Or the fact that Jaskier had not sent in a single report, or even seen one of his demon colleagues in that decade. Or the fact that Jaskier had never actually been at all invested in his job in the first place. But if all those things were true, that meant that he was here just because he wanted to be. 

Oh fuck. Was he in love with Geralt? 

Jaskier’s heart was beating so hard and fast in his chest that it almost hurt. In a state of shock he wandered around aimlessly, looking at the rose garden they had planted together a few years back. There was the shed with some of Jaskier’s less used instruments and the gear Geralt and Ciri used to practice with when she came to visit. Wandering inside, he looked at a home decorated by him and Geralt, filled with practical and sturdy furniture and cluttered with colourful knick knacks, walls covered with portraits of them and their family. 

Their home looked like it belonged to two people who had loved each other for a long time.

 _Fuck_. Jaskier thought. _I do, I do love him._

\-----

Once the shock settled, panic struck Jaskier anew. 

Geralt had no idea he was a demon. He might think he loved Jaskier now, but once he found out the truth, that Jaskier had lied to him for --how long was it, almost forty years?-- he would take back that mischievous smile and all the new opportunities it had promised. He might even leave, this time for good. 

“Essi!” he shouted, using all his focus to project to her. “ESSI!” 

WHAT? asked a voice in his head. 

“Essi,” he moaned, “I think I’m in love with Geralt.”

FOR FUCKS SAKE. FINE. I’M COMING. 

Slowly Essi started to materialise in front of him. Clearly it had been a while since she had been to the continent, because that outfit was about two decades out of season. He was just opening his mouth to comment when Essi interrupted him.

“Focus,” Essi scolded him, and Jaskier shifted impatiently from foot to foot as he waited for her body to materialise. 

“You have a nice place here,” Essi commented. “I’ve been keeping an eye out for you, of course, but this is the first time that I’ve seen it from this perspective.” 

The moment that she was mostly materialised, Jaskier threw himself into her arms for a hug. 

“What’s all this panic about Jaskier? I thought you two were happy here,” she murmured as she wrapped her arms around him. 

“We were, but I’m scared it’s all going to be ruined now,” Jaskier sniffed, tears starting to fall. “I think Geralt might have feelings for me”

“…Yes,” Essi finally said after a long moment of questioning silence, “and?”

“He has no idea I’m a demon!” Jaskier cried out, genuine in his dramatics. “What if he takes his feelings back when I tell him?”

“That’s not quite how feelings work, Jaskier. And I doubt Geralt would abandon you for something like that, not if he’s stuck by you for so long,” she soothed. “But why on earth haven’t you told him?”

“… it didn’t come up?” Jaskier tried, but when Essi drew back her head to glare at him he sighed. “I was scared about what would happen. What if he thinks all this was just me doing my job?” 

“Well, you’ve been retired for the past ten years, so you haven’t exactly been doing a lot of work,” she scoffed.

“I’m retired?” he asked, surprised. 

“When you disappeared off to live in a cosy cabin with that handsome man you had been singing love songs about for years, _and never reported back to work again,_ ” here she glared at him, but the playful smile betrayed her, “I submitted your retirement paperwork to Dijkstra.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. You are officially your own man --well, demon-- and have been for the past ten years. Though we will of course welcome you back should you ever wish it. No one else has ever managed to cause the type of chaos you did. If it wasn’t for your gods-awful paperwork, I’d even say we sometimes missed you.” 

Essi stayed with him while Geralt was away, and he spent the day showing her around his little village. It didn’t calm his nerves exactly, but it had been good to remember that he did have family he could go to, and that would come to him, whenever he needed them.

\----

When Geralt returned, Jaskier was still quite worried, and he couldn’t manage to do much more than stare at Geralt with wide eyes as he approached.Geralt just huffed a laugh, leaving the wine and fish in the kitchen as he went to his bedroom to change and clean himself up. 

Jaskier automatically went to prepare the fish, noting absently that it had become a routine for him now, to prepare the fish Geralt had caught for them, something that would have shocked him in his earlier years when he always made Geralt handle the food preparation when they were on the road. He speared the fish and brought them to the fire pit that already burned from when Geralt had lit it with igni before coming inside, the predictability and familiarity of their routines warming Jaskier’s heart. How had he not noticed? 

Still, though, the worry about what Geralt would say when he found out Jaskier’s true nature ate at him as he placed the fish over the grill. His hands were shaking, he noticed as he set up the table on the porch. He brought out wine, and hesitated a moment before taking the candles as well, despite it still being light enough outside. The puttering kept him distracted, but his nerves were still driving him almost insane. What would happen now? Or, sweet Melitele, what if Geralt left him? 

Just when Jaskier’s breathing began to ramp up to a worrying speed, Geralt stepped outside, hair brushed out and dressed in a flowing shirt Jaskier had always been particularly fond of. It wasn’t something anyone else might call dressed up, but Jaskier could see the extra effort he had made. 

Geralt took the time to stroke up and down Jaskier’s back telling him to, “Breathe, Jaskier, there’s nothing to worry about here,” before collecting the fish and joining Jaskier at the table. 

Geralt did most of the talking as they ate, telling Jaskier about his day, some herbs he was lucky to spot on his way back, the latest village gossip they both pretend they’re too good to follow. Soon enough Jaskier was back to his usual talkative self. If he was just a bit frantic about it, well, neither of them mentioned it.

Food eaten, Geralt beckoned Jaskier to their swing, and once they were seated he took Jaskier’s hand in his. Just that simple touch made Jaskier feel warm all over. 

“When did you know?” Jaskier asked. 

“That I loved you?” Geralt hummed, and it shocked Jaskier how easily the words came to Geralt, as if loving Jaskier was a truth that sat comfortably within him. “Ten years ago, I knew. Though I had loved you long before I realised it.”

“You should know something about me, before this goes any further,” Jaskier said, looking down at his own lap, but he was distracted from his worry by the soothing movement of Geralt’s thumb slowly stroking the back of his hand. 

“That you’re a demon?” Geralt asked with a smirk. “I know. Boch told me. That day on the mountain.”

“Oh,” Jaskier breathed, hope filling his chest. “So you know and you still--?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“I enjoy our life here and I’ll gladly let it continue on like this. But I want you to know that if you wished, instead of friend, you could name me husband.” There was no hesitation in Geralt’s voice as he continued speaking. “You would be welcome to join me in my bed as well, if you desired, but that part would not be necessary.”

Geralt moved a hand to cup Jaskier’s neck, stroking his thumb over his pulse point, and Jaskier thought he might combust from that touch alone. “I can sense the desire I inspire in you,” Geralt murmured in a considering tone, drawing in a long breath and watching in amusement as Jaskier squirmed. “And you flirt with everyone, all the time. But I could never quite figure out if you liked to partake.”

“I- Mmm. I do partake, but usually I have to intend for my body to feel arousal. It’s only for you that my body warms without my will. And I _would_ like to, ah, partake with you.”

“Only me, huh?” Geralt smirked, driving Jaskier insane with nothing but a hand on his neck. “I’ve been waiting for you to catch on. I didn’t mind the wait, Jaskier, because we’ve built a good life here. I don’t need more than this from you to be happy, but I had my suspicions that you might love me, too. But once it became clear that you wouldn’t catch on without some help, I decided it might be time to talk about it.”

“Demons are not supposed to love,” Jaskier whispered.

“Neither are witchers,” Geralt replied, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. “And yet, here we are.”

Jaskier let out a helpless laugh as he vowed, “Here we are.”

**Author's Note:**

> **I had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading it!**
> 
> **I’m thedaywasnew on tumble if you want to come say hi.**


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